It's true, and I'll readily admit it - I got buzzed. As a matter of fact, I was so buzzed, my entire head felt not unlike the belly of a guitar resonating with each tiny movement of the strings. It all started out when I was camping at Pinecrest last weekend. As a kind of last hurrah with some of my oldest and dearest cronies, the Labor Day camping trip is about as rustic as a Holiday Inn Express in Kalamazoo, but it always promises memories. This trip was well on its way to becoming one of the less eventful outings in large part due to the excessive number of children under the age of 2. I'm no pansy when it comes to the wee ones, but after awhile seeing so many humanoids inching around on their bellies, I began to feel like we had an infestation. In an effort to regain some semblance of pathos, I held my favorite baby, sweet Baby D, Drew Balsbaugh. You must understand that this child holds a place in my heart that far surpasses even my best expectations. He is perfect.
While cradling perfection in my arms, gazing in tender wonder at his inestimable value, a $*(Y@(*%(*#& bug flew into my ear. Once again, nobody's calling me a nancy-girl when it comes to critters. I'm not a fan of insects, and have been known to encourage the breeding of bats and lizards simply to control their numbers, but still... I can hold my own. I shook my head a bit and swatted at the offender, rubbing him out of my orifice, as any reasonable person would do. Problem solved, I returned to my contemplative state. Not too many minutes into my renewed reverie I heard, or rather felt, an invasive vibration. I assumed the mosquitoes were swarming & again waved them away from my head. Alas, the vibration didn't cease. Amazed at their gawdawful persistence I continued my previous tactic until it became abundantly and alarmingly clear that the offending party was not hovering round my skull. No friends, this dastardly beast was instead trapped WITHIN THE BOUNDARIES OF MY CEREBRUM. I realize this may sound a bit dramatic, but bear in mind that I am the sole source of support for God's most precious gift, Baby D, which would render me on par with Jezebel if I dropped him to tend to the increasingly urgent cranial matter. I passed him off as quickly as possible to a bystander who was more moved by mirth than concern. Her appreciation of the situation was multiplied when not one, but TWO of my dear friends pointed out that bugs lay eggs. Frequently. EVERYWHERE. Let's count up the reasons I slowly succumbed to panic, shall we?
1. There's a bug in my head
2. The bug might be laying eggs IN MY HEAD
I think that's enough. When shakes, shimmies, and epileptic-force convulsions failed to remove the interloper, Joy offered to help. I'm pretty sure she poured ice cold water into my aural cavity and sucked it out with one of those baby snot baster things. I can't be too sure because delirium had more or less overtaken me. To cut an already too-long narrative down to size, I continued with the remainder of the camping trip - luckily I couldn't hear all the laughter at my expense because I shoved earplugs straight through to the membrane. May God have mercy on us all.
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